Jacks, Marcy - The Hunter's Omega Mate [DeWitt's Pack 2] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) (8 page)

“Deacon ”—

A sharp sting on the side of his face that nearly threw him into the air silenced what he was about to say.

Deacon grabbed him by the shoulders, rubbing them in a soothing motion as Tristan rubbed his face.

“Now, I know it’s hard at first to live by the rules. You’re too  used to the way things used to be. But don’t you worry,” Deacon said,  his mouth closing in on Tristan’s ear. “Little more help and you’ll get  the hang of it.”

“But  ”—

Deacon’s fingers put enough pressure on Tristan’s shoulders that he nearly fell to his knees. He could feel the stubby fingernails digging into his skin, and he grunted in pain but said nothing else.

After what seemed like an eternity, Deacon released the pressure and resumed the massage. “Nothing else to say?”

Tristan shook his head.

“Good.”

Maybe Deacon would be more willing to let Tristan talk after he’d had sex with him. Christ, was this what the other members of his

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harem had to go through? Was his whole life going to be like this?

No, he thought after a couple of seconds. He would kill himself  before he spent his whole life as a living sex doll. Fuck. That.

The reason, the only reason, he was here was to keep Deacon  from going to war with James and to help their packs work together

when … when Isaac and his team of hunters came to kill them all.

Wouldn’t it be so much more poetic if Isaac was the one to kill

Tristan? It would certainly save him the trouble of doing it himself.

Dumb as it was, he was kind of hoping that Isaac would—

No.  He wasn’t going to finish that thought.

He would just do what he came to do, and let that be the end of it.

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Chapter Nine

“What d’you think they’re doing?” Dale whispered to Marty.

They were hiding away in the shrubs, watching the werewolves  gather in a circle around the big guy who was apparently the leader  and looked an awful lot like that one wolf Isaac had killed earlier that

night.

Dale’s rifle was held tightly in both hands, the same as everyone  else, but he kept on wiping his sweaty palms onto his pants.

Guy was a little eager to get the show on the road.

The sun was now in the beginning stages of peeking above the  distant horizon, which would make it harder for them to hide from

any pair of searching eyes. Despite that, so long as the wind stayed  with them, they were all but invisible to those werewolves out there.  Everyone knew werewolves did all their hunting and searching with  their noses, not their eyes.

“Looks like a gathering,” Marty said. “I’ve seen these before. It’s  always some show of dominance or initiation. Like they can’t just  introduce the new guy and shake hands or something.”

New guy? Isaac searched through all the people standing around.  No one was in their wolf forms, but that didn’t make it easier to see  through them when they all huddled so close like that.

New guy. There was no way in hell Tristan could have—

“Ladies and gentlemen,” their leader called out, clearly in the  mood for a show with the call to attention he just made. “Now that  everyone’s all here, I can introduce to  you the newest member of our  pack.”

Their leader was taller than most of his pack members, so Isaac

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was able to see how he smiled brightly as he hooked his arm around  the shoulders of the person he was bringing in.

The crowd seemed to part for that split second long enough for  Isaac to see Tristan’s unhappy face.

He made eye contact with everyone who stared at him, from the  uncaring to those who growled in disapproval at the sight of him.

Isaac gripped his shotgun tight. This was the pack! This was the  place Tristan was trying to avoid coming to! Had another one of those  motherfuckers over there captured him and brought him in when Isaac  had sent him away?

He would have cocked the shotgun had he not been concerned one  of those weres would hear the loud clicking noise. As it was, he just

sat still and stewed in his rage.

That were up there, the one with the eager smile on his face and  his arm around Tristan’s shoulder, that could only be Deacon. The  wolf Tristan was trying to avoid. From the looks of things, Deacon  was more than eager to get started, and Isaac could already tell what  exactly that was that he wanted to do.

“This is Tristan,” Deacon announced, gripping the side of  Tristan’s neck. “And I am welcoming him as a new member of my  harem.”

Before Isaac  could so much as make a shocked gasp over that revelation, Deacon pulled Tristan close and bit him on the side of the neck. Tristan made a pained sound.

He must have been getting ready to move in, but a sharp hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Easy, son,”  Marty said. “You’ll get your chance soon enough.”

Not soon enough for Isaac when Deacon threw Tristan into the dirt and began tearing at his clothes.

“Sir, are we just going to let this happen?” Isaac demanded, still gripping his gun, ready to put a couple dozen silver pellets in that bastard’s chest.

Marty shrugged. “It’s just a claiming. Wolves do this all the

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time.”

Deacon flipped Tristan around, his hand struggling between his legs to release his cock.

“Anyone else interested in watching gay sex?” Isaac seethed at the lot of them.

Dale shuddered. “Not really.”

The other three men they’d hired made similar noises of disgust.  Two of whom were also blushing and looking away from the scene.

“Marty?” Isaac demanded.

“That’s the alpha right there,” Marty said. “Wait until he’s at least started. Put him at a disadvantage for when we jump out at them.”

Tristan released a sharp cry from the center of the clearing, and  Isaac couldn’t wait anymore. He sprung out of the shrubs, pointed his shotgun, cocked it, and fired.

One wolf was dead, at least, the two others who’d been standing next to the poor bastard also dropped but only to shriek in pain as the silver pellets penetrated their hides, burning them from the inside.

Like cockroaches, they scattered at the noise,  giving Isaac a clear shot at their alpha as he ran his naked ass in the other direction.

Some alpha, he wouldn’t even stay and fight.

Didn’t stop Isaac from aiming and shooting another round at him, just for the silver pellets to strike at an inconvenient  pine tree that  Deacon disappeared behind.

“I’m going to kill you!” Isaac screamed.

“Isaac! You son of a bitch!”

It was Marty, and he sounded pissed. He, Dale, and the three hired hands all came out of their hiding place, guns blazing at the wolves who bothered to transform now that Isaac had flushed their element of

surprise down the toilet.

Like he cared. He quit.

He ran over to Tristan, who was still face down on the ground,

hands over his head as the bullets zoomed above him.

Isaac took him by the shoulder and spun him around.

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Tristan’s fist met his jaw.

That threw him back. He stretched out his jaw until he heard a light popping sound, and then the pain seemed to decrease a bit.

Tristan was still glaring at him.

“That my glad-to-see-you kiss?” Isaac asked.

“Fuck you,” Tristan responded.

He could have made the obvious come back on that one, but

instead he grabbed Tristan by the elbow and pulled him to his feet.

“We need to get out of here before they kill you.”

Tristan blinked at him. “What?”

“Run!” Isaac  yelled, gripping his arm tight and making for the

trees.

Marty and the others could be busy with those wolves for hours, minutes, or just decide to forgo the hunting and chase after Isaac right now for the way he’d fucked up their operation.

Either way, he wasn’t about to wait around.

Thankfully, Tristan seemed to be on the same page as he was.

They must have looked quite the sight. Isaac dressed in his regular leather hunting gear, guns strapped to every place a gun could be strapped, holding the hand of a naked man, both of them running like crazy through the shrubs and trees.

Despite the fact that he was wearing shoes and Tristan was barefoot, Tristan was by far the more graceful between the two of them, and more than once he had to yank on Isaac’s hand to keep him from tripping over some goddamn thing that got under his feet.

The sun was completely in the sky by the time they stopped to rest. Isaac had to force himself to breathe in through his nose, and he was definitely sweatier than Tristan was, whose  breathing suggested he might have been out for a pleasant jog instead of running for his life.

“Why did you take me?”

Isaac looked up from between his knees. Currently, he was

fighting to not puke, and the only response he could produce was a

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tired “Hwha?”

Tristan already looked ready to go running another round, and he was staring down at Isaac. There was fire in those green eyes.

Isaac stood straight. The immediate danger was over. By now it was obvious that Marty and the others would not be following them yet, but Isaac’s heart was still pumping with the adrenaline of their

escape.

The blood being pumped was all shooting down to one spot in  particular.

When Isaac didn’t answer Tristan’s question, Tristan turned, as  though he was about to leave.

Isaac rushed to him, grabbed him by his arm, and spun him

around.

Tristan did not push him away when he kissed him. He fisted his hands into Isaac’s leather jacket, nearly tearing it in half when he pulled it from Isaac’s shoulders.

Immediately some of the unbearable heat that had been building since he started to run vanished. Thank God, he was about ready to

pass out.

But then the heat from all that running was replaced with a  different sort of high pressure intensity, especially when Tristan  palmed Isaac’s crotch.

Suddenly, speaking and making plans did not seem as important  as ripping the rest of his clothes off and getting Tristan down on his  knees.

He made quick preparation of him before sliding his cock inside that waiting hole.

Tristan tensed up and hissed, and Isaac paused for just a second before continuing. One day they were going to have to do this with actual lubrication and not saliva.

Isaac made quick work of it. This was not lovemaking. This was a claiming, and he wanted to erase that son-of-a-bitch werewolf from  Tristan’s body forever.

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They both came in a quick rush, their hearts slowing back down to normal. Isaac kissed the back of Tristan’s neck, and he hugged him.

“I couldn’t leave you there,” he said, answering Tristan’s earlier question.

“I thought for sure you were going to kill me,” Tristan replied.  “Didn’t realize you were tracing Deacon’s pack though, otherwise I probably wouldn’t have gone to him.”

Isaac squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his forehead against the smooth skin of Tristan’s back. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t stop

him sooner.”

Tristan lifted himself up. They separated and looked at each other.

Isaac could barely look him in the eye. No matter what Isaac had previously thought of Tristan, he didn’t deserve to be raped like that.

He touched the mark Deacon had made on Tristan’s neck. The

puncture wound was already scabbing, and the blood was dry, but it  was still there for Isaac to see. “I should’ve stopped him sooner.  Christ, I could’ve done something.”

Tristan’s hands went to Isaac’s neck, but not to choke the life out

of him like he deserved. It was a comforting touch, and Tristan’s lips  were soft and forgiving as Isaac cried.

“I know what you’re thinking. He didn’t,” Tristan said, wiping the  moisture from Isaac’s cheeks with his  thumbs.

“But I heard him ”—

“No.” Tristan’s smile was bright. “Almost. If you’d waited any  longer, it would’ve been his cock instead of his fingers, but he didn’t.  I’m glad you came. I’m glad you still think enough of me to even

want
 
to save me.”

Tristan never stopped smiling, but Isaac couldn’t see the positive